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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27429319">forbidden cheese goo</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhymeswithpi/pseuds/rhymeswithpi'>rhymeswithpi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Dates, Fluff, M/M, i know i'm shocked too, zero angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:40:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,940</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27429319</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhymeswithpi/pseuds/rhymeswithpi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Prompto, that chip has gone <i>flaccid</i>. Nachos shouldn’t be <i>soggy</i>.”<br/>“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, Iggy. Sure, they’re disgusting, but they’re disgusting in a good way. A way that will probably clog our arteries and lead to an early grave.”<br/>Ignis reaches over and snags one of the few chips not <i>completely</i> smothered in orange goo. It bends in half as he picks it up.<br/>“I’m <i>hungry</i>,” he says. “That’s the only reason I’m even <i>considering</i> eating what you insist are nachos.”</p>
</blockquote>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>forbidden cheese goo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/onpanwa/gifts">onpanwa</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>look, it's nanowrimo. that's the only explanation i have for why this exists. also i'm apparently promnis trash now, so that's a thing that's happening.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ignis is, quite honestly, annoyed that he’s being forced to go see this ridiculous movie. But Noct had been <em> very </em> insistent that someone had to take Prompto to see it, since apparently he can’t pay enough attention to his own schedule to realize he’d promised to go see a movie when he’s supposed to be having dinner with his father. And Gladio’s father, apparently. And Gladio. How that just <em> slipped his mind </em> is beyond comprehension.</p><p>Regardless of <em> how </em> this happened, he’s still standing outside the theatre in a stupidly long line, Prompto chattering endlessly next to him. He’s trying to listen, really, but the topic has changed so many times that he can’t keep up. Or get a word in edgewise. </p><p>By the time they’re actually <em> in </em> the theatre, it’s well after dark, and he’s glad he thought to wear an actual sweater. How Prompto isn’t freezing in a short sleeve shirt like that is baffling. </p><p> </p><p>“Those aren’t nachos, Prompto, they’re a <em> sin against nature</em>.”</p><p>“Nah, you’re thinking of the nachos at Tony’s. Uh. Not that I’ve ever <em> been </em> to Tony’s. Or taken Noct there. I HAVE TO PEE hold these!”</p><p>Ignis stands there in the lobby for a minute, arms full of soda and popcorn and holding the cursed nachos, not entirely sure what just happened. What he <em> is </em> sure of is that no food should be that colour of orange, and nothing that can be legally called cheese should <em> congeal </em> like that.</p><p>Prompto eventually returns from the bathroom and unloads him of the armload of sugar and grease.</p><p>“Uh. We should. Go find seats? Before all the good ones are gone.”</p><p>Ignis nods and holds the door open for Prompto. Most of the decent seats <em> are </em> gone, but it’s easy enough to find something close enough to the middle on an aisle. Maybe it’s not the best view, but it’s good enough, and Prompto seems satisfied with his choice of seats. They settle in, and Ignis takes in the crowd. How is this movie so <em> popular </em>? The original is a good fifteen years old, and half the people in the theatre aren’t even old enough to remember when it came out.</p><p> </p><p>“Iggy. <em> Iggy </em> . Are you seriously telling me you’ve never seen the glory that is <em> Throatpuncher: Fist of Fury</em>?”</p><p>“It wasn’t exactly the sort of thing I would choose to spend my time on.”<br/>“Oh man, Iggy, you <em> have </em> to see it. But I can recap it! So you’re not, y’know. Completely lost. Since you’re here to see the sequel.”</p><p>Ignis nods and steals a handful of popcorn. He’s regretting not eating earlier, if he’s honest, but he wasn’t exactly planning on spending the bulk of his evening at a movie theatre. He <em> was </em> going to get himself a nice dinner and spend the rare evening off with a book. But this isn’t bad, really, if he ignores the hunger gnawing at his stomach. Prompto is <em> adorable </em> when he’s this excited about something, even if the summary of the original movie is moving so fast that he couldn’t follow what was going on if he tried.</p><p> </p><p>“Prompto, that chip has gone <em> flaccid</em>. Nachos shouldn’t be <em> soggy</em>.”</p><p>“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, Iggy. Sure, they’re disgusting, but they’re disgusting in a good way. A way that will probably clog our arteries and lead to an early grave.”</p><p>Ignis reaches over and snags one of the few chips not <em> completely </em> smothered in orange goo. It bends in half as he picks it up.</p><p>“I’m <em> hungry</em>,” he says. “That’s the only reason I’m even <em> considering </em> eating what you insist are nachos.”</p><p>It’s. Well, it’s not <em> completely </em> awful. Which isn’t saying much, honestly, because it’s somehow soggy and crunchy at the same time, and the sheer amount of salt makes his mouth pucker. The fake cheese goo leaves this weird film on his tongue and teeth, and the soda he has to wash it down is doing <em> nothing </em> to get the taste out of his mouth.</p><p>He eventually manages to <em> swallow </em> the unholy thing, with a generous helping of what he’s just realized isn’t even <em> his </em> soda, but was just the closest thing to drink. Prompto is stifling giggles when he looks back over, and well, that’s fair, he’s sure he made some ridiculous faces during that whole process.</p><p>“Cursed, Prompto. Those things are <em> cursed</em>.”</p><p>The lights dim and the previews start to roll before Prompto can respond.</p><p> </p><p>The movie wasn’t <em> bad</em>, really. Confusing, certainly. Needlessly violent, almost definitely. Ignis still doesn’t understand the appeal of the genre, but he will admit it was an enjoyable time with Prompto. His main focus is, admittedly, getting <em> out </em> of the theatre, because then he can find actual food. Food that isn’t overly salty, greasy, or made almost entirely of sugar.</p><p>He doesn’t even notice he’s lost Prompto until he’s standing outside on the street again and turns around to ask what Prompto would like for dinner. But logically, Prompto will <em> have </em> to come out the door sooner or later. It’s not surprising the crowd split them up, really. Ignis wasn’t exactly paying enough attention to keep them together.</p><p>Something out here smells <em> incredible</em>. Probably one of the many food trucks he can see just down the block, near the park. If he hasn’t seen Prompto emerge from the crowd in the next five minutes, he’ll go back in and find him. In the meantime, his phone has been buzzing <em> incessantly </em> for the last half hour, and he’s about to rip whoever’s bothering him on his day off a new one.</p><p>
  <em> “Heard you had a cute date tonight, Iggy.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Damn, not even a snarky reply. Could it be you’re actually enjoying yourself?” </em>
</p><p>Ignis is going to <em> strangle </em> Gladio one of these days. Why would he not enjoy a night out? And since when is this a <em> date</em>? And… <em> oh no</em>. He sees what’s happening here. And the string of eggplant emojis that appear in the text thread just seal the deal. Noct and Gladio <em> planned </em> this. He turns his phone entirely off and shoves it into his pocket. There’s no sense in letting those two <em> morons </em> ruin a perfectly enjoyable evening. He’s probably doing an impressive enough job of that on his own, now that he thinks about it, and if he doesn’t get food soon, he’s going to be even <em> less </em> pleasant to be around.</p><p>“Iggy! I… never mind. I’m glad I found you.”</p><p>“It made sense to wait here once I realized we’d been separated, Prompto. You had to come outside eventually.”</p><p>Prompto laughs that nervous little giggle that shouldn’t be <em> nearly </em> as endearing as it is. His stomach chooses that moment to complain <em> loudly </em> that it needs food.</p><p>“Oh! Right!” Prompto says. “You didn’t eat dinner. Um. Come on! I know a place.”</p><p>He doesn’t have a chance to object before Prompto grabs his hand and starts dragging him down the street. Prompto’s hand is <em> freezing </em> , he notices. Probably because it’s late autumn, it’s after midnight, and it’s <em> cold</em>, yet Prompto’s wearing short sleeves like it’s still the height of summer. Ignis just hopes that wherever they’re going has hot food. Preferably <em> not </em> covered in forbidden cheese goo.</p><p>Prompto stops a couple times to look around before pulling him forward again, not letting go of his hand the entire time. His hand is softer than Ignis expected it to be. Not that he’s spent a substantial amount of time thinking about that, of course, but he’d expected them to be rougher. More like his own, maybe, calloused from years of working and studying and… he really needs to stop thinking about it. Prompto’s just trying to make sure he doesn’t get lost in the crowd again, that’s all.</p><p>Ignis is so wrapped up in his thoughts that <em> definitely </em> aren’t about how Prompto is still holding his hand and that he really wants to get Prompto somewhere <em> warm </em> that he misses Prompto stopping and runs right into him.<br/>“Sorry,” he says. “Suppose I was a bit distracted. Are you alright?”</p><p>Prompto just… giggles again. Ignis takes a steadying breath and looks up at the menu.</p><p>“Prompto,” Ignis breathes. “Did you know dumplings are my <em> favourite</em>?”</p><p>“Um. Maybe. But I found this place a couple months ago! And they’re really good, Iggy, and I knew you had to try it and I was hoping that I could bring you here and -- well. Now we’re here.”</p><p>He studies the menu for several minutes before he realizes Prompto is still holding his hand. Not that he’s complaining, but this is definitely more than trying to make sure they don’t get separated in the crowd at this point, and he’s trying <em> really </em> hard to not be hopeful. Prompto probably just forgot, or hasn’t let go because he’s cold.</p><p>“What do you want, Prompto? You paid for the movie, it’s only fair that I get dinner.”</p><p>“Oh! Um. You don’t have to do that, Iggy. I can get my own.”</p><p>“Nonsense,” he says. “My treat, since you <em> did </em> find me a dumpling stand. It would be my pleasure.”</p><p>Ignis has to let go of Prompto’s hand to pay for their order and already misses the contact by the time he’s done. Prompto worries at his wristband while they wait for their food, shivering slightly in the evening air. He allows himself a minute to really <em> look </em> at Prompto, a minute to admire the dusting of freckles across his nose and the way he clearly spent too much time trying to make his hair look like he didn’t put any effort into it. He’s snapped out of his reverie when their order number is called and Prompto rushes forward to grab their food.</p><p>He lets Prompto lead him away from the food truck, wishing he had the nerve to take Prompto’s hand again. Wishing for a lot more than that, if he’s honest with himself, which he is <em> pointedly </em> ignoring. But for now he’ll be content with a hot meal and interesting company, if they can ever find a place to just sit down and <em> eat </em>. Prompto leads him into the park, hugging the bag of food to his chest.</p><p>These dumplings are, frankly, <em> divine </em>. Far better than the dumpling stand by his flat, if he’s being honest. Prompto’s talking about the movie, all the parallels to the original, occasionally stopping mid-sentence to take a bite of his own food. Ignis hums where he thinks it’s appropriate, thinking he might rather enjoy watching the original if Prompto were to watch it with him. Prompto shuffles a little closer to him on the bench, leaning up against his side.</p><p>“Prompto, you’re <em> freezing </em>. Maybe we should head somewhere warmer?”</p><p>“Oh! Um, that’s… that’s not necessary,” Prompto says, hopping off the bench. “I should head home soon. The last bus will be leaving soon, I don’t want to have to walk.”</p><p>“Prompto,” Ignis says. “You do realize I have a <em> car </em> . I can <em> drive </em> you home, there’s no need to end such a pleasant evening so early. Unless you want to go home, of course.”</p><p>“No! That’s. That’s not what I was saying. I just. I didn’t want to assume you’d give me a ride, since that’s what you do for Noct all day and I didn’t know if you’d even <em> want </em> to drive across the city at this time of night and, well. No. I don’t want to go home yet. But it’s cold and the food’s gone and I’m pretty sure that goose is stalking me.”</p><p>“I don’t think the goose cares that much, really,” Ignis says, laughing. “I’m not parked far from here. We can drive around for a while, if you’d like.”</p><p>Prompto nods, arms wrapped around his chest. Ignis hauls himself off the bench and disposes of their garbage before offering Prompto his hand. There’s an awkward minute of Prompto just staring at his hand, and Ignis is about to pull it back when he feels Prompto’s fingers twine with his own. He can see the flush on Prompto’s cheeks in the streetlights, feels his own heating up to match. Some day, he thinks, he’d like to walk around the lake with Prompto. Preferably some day when Prompto’s actually dressed for the weather, because this is honestly a little ridiculous. Better to take the short route, then, and cut across the grass.</p><p>Ignis unlocks the passenger door and holds it open for Prompto, pausing for a minute to take off his sweater and hand it to him before rounding to the other side and sliding into the driver’s seat.</p><p>“Iggy, I can’t take this. What if you get cold?”</p><p>“Then I’ll turn on the heat, Prompto. You’re cold <em> now </em>, it makes more sense for you to wear it.”</p><p>Prompto thinks for a minute before sticking his arms through the sleeves, and he has <em> no </em> business looking so adorable. Ignis swallows thickly before starting the car. Six help him, he’s farther gone than he thought. He wants to be mad at Noct for setting all this up, but it’s turned out far better than anything he’s tried to plan.</p><p>“Anything in particular you want to see, Prompto, or should I just see where the roads take us?”</p><p>Prompto shakes his head. Driving aimlessly it is, then. There’s something comforting about being behind the wheel at this time of night, knowing that he can go practically anywhere in a city he knows like the back of his hand, but still find something new. He turns the car off the main road as soon as they’re out of downtown traffic, which is somehow still absolutely dreadful despite the late hour. Insomnia really is a city that never sleeps, he supposes. He drives up into the hills for a while, until they’re far enough above the city to escape the noise, before pulling off the road into a lookout spot.</p><p>“This is my favourite spot in the city,” Ignis says. “Away from all the noise. And the pressure. It’s a lot harder to feel alone out here, somehow.”</p><p>“But Iggy, there isn’t a library here,” Prompto says, clapping a hand over his mouth. “Oh gods I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to say that please don’t be mad at me.”</p><p>“You’re right, there’s not,” Ignis says as he reaches over to take Prompto’s hand again. “But if you look right over <em> there </em>,” he points to a blue light in the distance, “that’s the Citadel’s library.”</p><p>Prompto looks where he’s pointing, hand dropping away from his face.</p><p>“They don’t understand what a reserve system means, might I add. I had that book on hold and they just let some <em> random person </em> come in and check it out.”</p><p>He spends a few minutes pointing out other places, the university, the Amicitia house, Noct’s apartment building. Another library or two, just for good measure. Prompto relaxes back into his seat before long, starts laughing a little more easily again, even shifts to put the sweater on <em> properly </em>. It’s big on him, drowning his hands in the fabric.</p><p>Ignis notices he’s staring when Prompto turns to face him, but he can’t convince himself to look away.</p><p>“Um. Thanks, Iggy. For seeing the movie with me. And for all of this. I know Throatpuncher isn’t your thing. You really didn’t have to do this.”</p><p>“I’m glad I did,” Ignis says. “And I think I wouldn’t mind seeing the original sometime. If I got to watch it with you, that is.”</p><p>“I’d like that,” Prompto says. “Um. The movie. And you. And absolutely no forbidden nachos.”</p><p>He’s still staring, but in his defense, Prompto is <em> breathtaking </em> in the glow of the city lights. If he just leans a little farther over --</p><p>Prompto’s phone buzzes, startling them both. Prompto fumbles for his pocket, pulls the offending device out.</p><p>“Um. Just Noct. Wondering how the movie was. It’s. It’s late, Iggy. Not that I’m not having a good time! But maybe we should think about heading back?”</p><p>Ignis sighs. Prompto’s right. He does have to be awake and functional in the morning, whether he likes it or not, and he’s sure Prompto has things to do that require at least <em> some </em> sleep. He squeezes Prompto’s hand again before pulling it away to start the car.</p><p>The drive back into the city goes faster than Ignis wants it to, really, and before he’s really ready to stop, he’s pulling up in front of Prompto’s house. He slips out of the car and opens the door for him, offers him a hand to get out.</p><p>“Forgive me if this is too forward,” he says, “but I had a lovely time. And, if you’re willing, I believe I have a day off next weekend, if you’d like to watch the original Throatpuncher with me.”</p><p>“<em>Absolutely</em>,” Prompto says. “Um. Yes. I’d like that. I’ll text you later so we can make plans?”</p><p>“I shall wait with bated breath,” Ignis says.</p><p>He leans in before he loses his nerve and presses a soft kiss to Prompto’s cheek, steps back blushing furiously. There’s a moment where he fears he’s overstepped or misunderstood the situation, because Prompto isn’t <em> moving </em>, and then Prompto launches himself in to hug him, presses a kiss to his cheek in return.</p><p>“Thanks, Iggy. I’ll. I’ll text you later. Promise. Thanks again for tonight.”</p><p>Prompto’s dashing off to the door before Ignis really has a moment to process what just happened. He’s back in the car and pulling into his own parking spot before he remembers he’s supposed to be mad at Noct and Gladio for setting them up like this.</p><p>Maybe he can forgive them just this once, though.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>pssst hey onpanwa! happy birthday! we miss you, and we think about you a lot. i hope this fic brings a little joy into your day.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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